


We'll Always Have Paris

by thegreenfigtree



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Goodbyes, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-06 00:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreenfigtree/pseuds/thegreenfigtree
Summary: An exploration of Jane and Maura's time in Paris, the feelings it awakens, and the things they learn about themselves and each other in the city of love.





	1. Warm on a Cold Night

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, each chapter is inspired by a song, highly recommend listening to enhance the reading experience
> 
> this is my final gift to y'all before i vanish for the entire month of november to do nanowrimo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mood: "Warm on a Cold Night" by HONNE

In Paris, there are no rules. No schedules or deadlines to keep them in line, to take up their time, to keep them distracted. Jane realizes this when the baker down the street recognizes her after she comes in for pastries three times in a day. It’s only because Maura wanted them, she tells the baker, who adds another free croissant for the woman up in the penthouse glued to her computer. Jane pulls her jacket around her against the chilly fall air and holds the bakery bag tight. It’s warm.

As she walks home, she checks her watch and doesn’t remember the time when she looks away. She doesn’t look again. It doesn’t matter what time it is here, because she’s got nowhere to be but upstairs next to Maura with a stack of books and a gorgeous view. Upstairs, when she presents the bag of pastries, she lets herself notice the way Maura’s eyes flicker in the orange evening light the same way she notices the towers of the strong, tall cathedrals and delicate brush strokes in the paintings within them.

And, being that there are no rules, she lets her hand linger just a moment longer than usual on Maura’s skin as she brushes an eyelash away, lets her thumb trace a path down to a gentle jawline before severing the connection. She’s in no hurry here. Not like at home, with the sneaking glances and the tiny brushes of hands hastily yanked away and the speed-walking verging on running to crime scenes. Because if they stopped for even a second, it would mean disaster.

It would disrupt the delicate balance they’ve found for themselves. They go through their days holding their breath, spines stiff and straight, terrified to see what their bodies might do if given the chance.

But in Paris, there are no rules. Jane slides her arm around the back of Maura’s chair and watches tiny bumps erupt on smooth skin as she breathes deep and slow, the scent of Maura’s perfume filling each and every one of her senses. “I heard it’s gonna be cold tonight,” she says, quietly, gently, feeling the roughness in her voice as it passes through her lips.

Maura busies herself with clicking around her computer screen rather than replying, at first. Jane knows exactly why. In just a few moves, she’s completely shifted the tone of their game. _Your move_, she says in her head, waiting for Maura to whip out some irrelevant science fact so Jane can tease her about it. It’s the dance they do, the same every time, until tonight. Tonight, Jane has changed the tempo and Maura has no choice but to keep up.

Maura’s looking at a weather radar now. “We’re getting snow.” There’s a pull in her voice, and Jane can visualize the strain of her vocal cords to push the words out amidst all the uneven breaths surrounding them. “It’s early in the season for that.”

Jane notices the flush of Maura’s cheeks, red and rosy against milky skin. She drags her arm further across the chair and lets her fingers gently brush Maura’s arm. It’s warm. “I bet Paris is gorgeous in the snow.” In her mind’s eye she can see the flakes gentle floating through the blue sky, settling on iron fences and blanketing the city in soft, glittering white. She can see Maura, bundled in a bright blue coat, catching snowflakes in her gloved palm and showing them to Jane, explaining how each one is entirely unique, not noticing Jane watching her lips move instead of looking at the snowflake.

“Jane,” Maura whispers as Jane’s fingers draw swirling patterns on her arm. “What are you doing?”

“I think you know.” Jane trails her hand lower, catching Maura’s wrist, stroking her thumb on the soft skin there, feeling Maura’s pulse quickening beneath her fingers. “Maura,” she murmurs, bringing her mouth close to Maura’s ear. She revels at the way Maura seems to quiver at the sound of her name on Jane’s lips. “Why did you get us an apartment with only one bed?”

Maura lets out the tiniest whimper, cuts it off like she caught it just a little bit too late, and Jane can’t see her eyes but she can guess they’re wider and darker than they’ve ever been. “I didn’t know you were coming when I booked it,” she says slowly, each syllable measured carefully like only a true scientist would. “And the cancellation fee-”

“Is probably pennies on the dollar for you.” Jane moves so that her mouth is positioned just above Maura’s shoulder, the spot where her neck dips into her clavicle, and speaks softly enough that she knows Maura will feel every word on her skin. “Admit it. You like sharing with me.”

Maura shivers as Jane breathes the words into her neck. In her peripheral vision, Jane sees the corner of Maura’s bottom lip disappear between white teeth. “Jane, we can’t.” Maura doesn’t sound convinced, however, and her body continues to give her away as she sinks herself into Jane’s touch. Even after all this time, she’s still the woman who can’t lie.

Slowly, Jane leans further down and gently brushes her lips across Maura’s neck; barely a whisper of a touch, but it’s enough. Maura sucks in a sharp breath. Jane smiles against soft, tender skin, letting her lips rest there, just grazing the spot she so desperately wants to attack. “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

The pause before Maura speaks next seems to last hours. Jane doesn’t move, even though her neck is starting to cramp, waiting for Maura to let her know what to do next. Finally, the command comes as a breathy sigh, Maura sinking into the chair and throwing her head back to allow Jane even better access. “Don’t stop.”

Jane doesn’t hesitate before descending on Maura’s neck with a voraciousness she doesn’t recognize in herself. She spins Maura’s chair and pulls her up to stand, capturing her lips in a kiss that makes her feel lightheaded, hands grasping at any fabric they can hold, desperate for more contact. She feels drunk on this kiss. The buzz in her head, the clumsiness of her hands, the warmth building inside her, it’s all because of Maura, all because of those soft pink lips and that tongue that’s now pushing inside Jane’s mouth to explore its depths.

Suddenly, Jane feels the power shift, and Maura’s pushing her back, down the hallway to the bedroom, stumbling behind her on love-drunk legs. They fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs already sweaty and shaking before they’ve even begun. Jane gasps as Maura traces her tongue down her neck, dipping into her collarbone and tracing the barely visible bones in her chest. She bites down, sucking the skin into her mouth, until Jane feels the familiar popping sensation and cranes her neck to look down at her. “Marks,” she hisses.

Maura looks up and grins. Her eyes are dark but sparkling, and Jane finds herself drowning in them. “Worried someone we know will see them?”

And that’s when Jane remembers. In Paris, there are no rules. Her heart leaps at the thought of wearing Maura’s marks, of physical evidence that this actually happened, that she didn’t just dream it again for the hundredth time after too much wine on Maura’s couch. “Carry on.”

And Maura does. Her hands and mouth travel over Jane’s body slowly, hungrily, hitting all the exact right spots in a way that makes Jane think Maura’s thought about this for a while, too. At some point, Jane’s t-shirt and Maura’s dress end up on the floor, Jane’s bra following close behind. She doesn’t even try to stifle her moan as Maura takes a nipple into her mouth, flicking it gently back and forth with her tongue, softly biting down, soothing the bites with her tongue again. Her fingers work the opposite nipple, not letting it be neglected.

Jane feels heat pooling down low in her body, begging to be touched, to be felt, to be kissed by those same soft lips, devoured by that same skilled tongue. She grabs a fistful of blonde hair and tries to push Maura downward.

Maura looks up at her again with a soft smile. “I’ll get there,” she practically purrs. “Be patient.” To emphasize her words, she reaches down and brushes her hand ever so gently between Jane’s legs, sending fireworks through Jane’s body even through her jeans.

Jane’s never been patient. She doesn’t know how she’s managed to wait seven years just to be here like this with Maura at all, but this might be the hardest part to wait through. Maura keeps teasing her, building her up, every so often running a hand down to the waistband of her pants, but just as quickly pulling it away.

By the time Maura finally unbuttons Jane’s jeans and starts to pull them off, Jane feels like she might explode. Her entire body is quaking with anticipation, and she can feel herself soaking through her underwear. One look at Maura’s face tells her she’s right. Maura stares at the apex of Jane’s thighs, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. She doesn’t move for a few moments. Jane squirms a little, self-conscious under such a probing gaze, but Maura’s eyes don’t move from Jane’s underwear.

Finally, her hands slip under the waistband of Jane’s underwear, moving at a snail’s pace, pulling them down her legs until finally, cool air touches the heat of wet skin. Maura slides her hands beneath Jane’s thighs and pulls her downward on the bed. Her hot breath washes over Jane’s pussy, and time seems to stop as she leans forward and runs the pointed tip of her tongue through the folds.

Jane takes fistfuls of the sheets in white-knuckled hands as she throws her head back. Whatever she expected from this, whatever she’s spent years building up in her head, this is better. Her moans fill the room, guttural and raw, and Jane can’t fathom that those sounds are coming from her own throat; but still she continues, nearly screaming as her orgasm floods her. Her body writhes against Maura’s mouth.

As she’s coming down from her high, she catches a glimpse of Maura wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, and somehow it turns her on infinitely more to know that her own wetness is dripping down Maura’s chin like ice cream on a hot day. “Come here,” she says breathily, pulling Maura back up to kiss her. She tastes herself on Maura’s lips, salty and sweet at the same time, and sighs into her mouth. “You’re incredible.”

Maura smiles into the kiss. She runs her hand through Jane’s hair, cradling the back of her neck gently in her hand. “You are.” Her voice has dipped lower than usual, rough and dark and not at all like the Maura Jane spends her days bickering with at work.

“Maura,” Jane whispers. She pulls back just enough to look Maura in the eye, losing herself in hazel depths for just a second. “I can’t move.” She gestures down to her legs, stiff and still tingling from her orgasm, the most powerful she’s ever experienced, and she’s indeed stuck where she is.

Maura grins. “I’ll make do.” She gently pushes Jane to lie back down on the bed, and moves so she’s kneeling over Jane’s face. As she slips off her panties to reveal a dripping pussy, she looks down at Jane. “Is this okay?”

“Absolutely.” Jane is mesmerized by the sight in front of her. Or, more accurately, above her. She wraps her hands around Maura’s thighs and pulls her downward to take wet folds into her mouth. Instantly, her tongue is bombarded with Maura’s taste, and Jane decides it’s her new favorite flavor. She runs her tongue between folds of skin, searching for the spot she knows will drive Maura crazy.

Maura grips the headboard as Jane flicks her tongue against her clit, releasing moans that Jane finds herself memorizing even as she hears them. Jane grips Maura’s hips tight as she grinds against Jane’s face. Every sense is overwhelmed with Maura, every cell in her brain dedicated to Maura’s pleasure, and as she pulls Maura’s clit into her mouth, she barely stifles a grin as Maura’s hips start bucking and she loses control.

Maura collapses beside Jane, sweaty and spent, a euphoric grin decorating her face. She rolls over so that her entire body is facing Jane. “Have you done that before?”

“No.” Jane smiles. “Guess I’m a quick learner?”

In place of a response, Maura pulls Jane in for a kiss. This time, there’s no desperation or hunger, just the gentle rhythm of lips moving against each other, yearning for nothing other than the connection of being together. When they break apart, Maura shifts to rest her head on Jane’s chest, wrapping an arm over Jane’s stomach and pulling her in close.

Jane’s not sure when they fall asleep. All she knows is that she wakes up with Maura still lying there, the clock showing that it’s a little past three in the morning. And she needs to pee. She tries not to wake Maura as she gets up, but as she stands she hears Maura groan and roll over. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I just need to pee.”

Maura smiles sleepily. “It’s okay, I’m hungry anyway,” she yawns. “I didn’t have a chance to have any of those pastries I sent you for.”

“Come on, then.”

It’s cold, so they slip on the fluffy robes Maura insisted on packing and make their way to the kitchen in the dark, Jane making a detour to the bathroom on the way. The pastries aren’t warm anymore, but Jane still moans in pleasure as the sweetness hits her tongue. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she had food in her hand. “So, how do you feel?” she asks, voice tiptoeing around a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you okay with what happened?”

Maura smiles. She sets down her croissant and takes Jane’s hand in hers with a gentle squeeze. Jane feels the reverberation up and down her entire body. “You and I both know that didn’t come out of nowhere.”

“Yeah.” Jane sighs. “What do we do from here?”

“Whatever we want.” Maura grins. She finishes her croissant, wiping her hands on a napkin, and glances across the room to the balcony window. “Oh, look. It’s snowing.”

Jane follows her gaze, and, sure enough, little white flakes are drifting through the night air, illuminated by the lights of the city as they land on the iron-bar railing of their balcony. She stands up. Without a word, she walks over to the window, pressing a hand to the cold glass, and watches the city below put on its blanket one snowflake at a time.

She feels arms slip around her waist and turns to see Maura leaning against her side. Jane smiles. She kisses Maura’s head and pulls her close. They stand there for a while, sleep all but forgotten, watching the city shiver in the cold, while they’re safe inside wrapped up in each other’s arms. Jane slides an arm down her side and takes one of Maura’s hands. She squeezes it. It’s warm. Between the snow outside and Maura’s warm embrace, this moment is absolutely perfect.

Jane decides she likes Paris. She likes being here with Maura. And she likes having no rules.


	2. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mood: "we fell in love in october" by girl in red

After that night, the two of them fall into a routine. Maura wakes up early and spends two hours writing every morning while Jane sleeps in, then they spend the rest of their day wandering the city, eating far past full, and soaking in each other’s company. Both of them know what’s coming when they get back home. Jane will pack up all her things and move to Virginia, and the closeness they’ve shared here will come to an end. It’s always looming in the back of their minds.

Still, they chase the days they have, filling the apartment with giggles and kisses and clothes strewn about in every room. Maura can’t believe they’ve wasted so many years avoiding the inevitable, hiding from their feelings, refusing to allow themselves to be this close. Now that they have, she’s happier than she’s ever been. In just a few days, she’s already forgotten what it’s like to wonder what Jane tastes like. She knows that taste will remain imprinted on her tongue as long as she lives.

They’re walking through the street the day after their first night together, making footprints in the fresh snow that overlap and cross over each other, physical evidence of how close they’re walking. Maura reaches out a gloved hand and catches a snowflake in her palm. “Look,” she says, showing it to Jane. “Every snowflake is unique.” She gestures to the arms of the flake with her opposite hand, urging Jane to see the same beauty she sees. “It has six arms because of the hexagonal crystalline structure of the ice. See, it looks symmetrical, but really each arm forms independently, making them all slightly different.” She looks up to watch Jane’s reaction.

But Jane isn’t looking at the snowflake. She’s staring right at Maura’s face, knocking the wind out of Maura when she looks up to meet dark brown eyes.

Maura’s still not used to being on the receiving end of such intensity in Jane’s gaze. Until now, the glances they shared lasted only a second before one of them pretended to be looking at something else. She’s still not used to the openness, the honest they’re suddenly sharing with one another. “What?” she says, feeling her face grow warm under the scrutiny.

“Did you know you have a special smile that you only use when you’re talking about science?”

Maura tilts her head. She’s never heard that from anyone before. She’s never noticed herself smiling at all while explaining things, though she’s not necessarily surprised. She recognizes the signs of excitement in herself when she talks about something beautiful like the formation of a snowflake. Or the way Jane’s hair curls differently when it’s hot out. “No, I didn’t.”

Jane smiles. She slides her hand into Maura’s, squashing the snowflake, but Maura finds she’s not upset at the destruction. “It’s cute. It shows how excited you are.”

“Thank you,” Maura murmurs. She ducks, hoping that in turning away, Jane won’t see the flush grow even deeper on her cheeks. Perhaps she can blame it on the cold if Jane does notice. When they get back to the apartment, Maura’s naked within a few minutes of walking in the door, her entire body flushed and warm and pink beneath Jane’s hands and mouth roaming all over her skin. Thank God they’re not here in busy travel season, and the apartments around them are empty, because the way Maura screams out her orgasms would surely get them a noise complaint.

Throughout the next few weeks, Maura finds hints of her and Jane’s budding romance sneaking their way into her novel, from the way the detective and medical examiner smile at each other across the autopsy table, to the sudden increased frequency of physical contact between them. It suddenly seems impossible for her to imagine a world where this hasn’t always been there. It seems completely normal, completely inevitable.

She’s started writing in the evenings now, too, when Jane stands on the balcony to watch the lights of the city come on as the sun sinks below the horizon. Maura joins her once in a while, but she knows Jane needs alone time to be able to decompress. So she writes. Sneaking glances out the window at her tall, wild-haired detective turned best friend turned lover, trying to deduce what she’s thinking about based on her posture.

Tonight, Jane’s leaning over the railing, slouching and crumpled, and if Maura believes her eyes, she seems to be crying. Maura frowns. She wonders if she should go outside. She knows Jane’s solitary time at night is important, but, at the same time, Maura wants to make sure she’s all right. She slowly stands up from her writing desk and puts on a jacket and her slippers to protect against the chilly October breeze.

Jane doesn’t turn around when the balcony door opens. “Hey,” she says, still facing out to the city. Her voice is thick and low. She’s definitely been crying.

“Hi.” Maura stands beside her. She rests her arms on the balcony, not wanting to overwhelm Jane with too much contact. She knows how touchy Jane can be about being vulnerable in times like this. “What’s wrong?”

Jane doesn’t answer at first. Her eyes focus in on the Eiffel Tower, so tiny in the distance, lights flickering on against the cotton candy sky. “We’re halfway through the trip already,” she says finally. Her fingertips tap absently against the railing. “I’m just worried about what happens when we get home.”

Maura sighs. She slides a hand across the railing to slip into Jane’s, their fingers automatically intertwining. They’re practiced at this by now. “Me, too.” She squeezes Jane’s hand, prompting her to look over and meet her eye. “What do you want?”

“I… I don’t know.” Jane flicks her eyes to the ground, and Maura can see a war going on behind them. “I don’t really want to think about it right now.”

“Okay.” Maura squeezes Jane’s hand again. She leans her head on Jane’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of Jane’s skin and storing it in her mind. “You’re right. The city is beautiful at this time of night.”

She feels Jane smile against the top of her head, a gentle kiss in her hair. “Yeah. I like watching it come to life.” Jane shifts her weight. “Would you mind… I just need to be by myself.”

Maura smiles. “Of course. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” She picks up Jane’s hand and kisses her knuckles, noting the dryness, but not saying anything. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks.”

Maura sits back down at her computer to continue her chapter but finds that the words have run out. Her mind is jumping all around, and she can’t shake what Jane said. Maura hadn’t thought about going home. She never considered that this might have to change. Or end. She’s gotten so used to having Jane all to herself, getting to kiss her whenever she wants, watching the way she moves and speaks without having to hide it.

She sneaks another glance toward the balcony, Jane’s back still turned, and slowly brings her fingers to her lips. Maura never considered that loving Jane could hurt. After all the people that have broken her heart, who have left her behind without a second thought, Jane was always the one who stayed behind to help her pick up the pieces. Maura was never supposed to lose her, too.

She’s not sure how long she sits there letting her mind spin, but suddenly the balcony door is sliding open and Jane is taking Maura in her arms and kissing the top of her head like she always does. “You coming to bed?” Jane murmurs.

Maura feels herself sink into Jane’s embrace and suddenly all the fear in her mind vanishes, replaced only by the rush of pure joy she feels whenever Jane is this close to her. Science doesn’t usually fall short, but no scientific process could come close to describing this feeling. She sighs contentedly. “Yes.”

If Maura could bottle a feeling to keep around for when she’s having a bad day, it would be the feeling of lying in bed with Jane’s scent filling her with every breath. She loves the feeling of long, strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She loves hearing Jane’s heartbeat beneath warm, soft skin. She loves knowing that this is the only place she’s ever meant to be, the place she’s been running toward her whole life. Lying there, night after night, is the closest thing she’s ever felt to ecstasy.

Towards the end of their time in Paris, Maura notices Jane holding her even more tightly, fingers tracing all over her body as though trying to memorize the sight of her with her eyes closed. Maura clings to her just as tightly. Somehow, time has gotten away from them, and Maura realizes one night that they only have three days left in this gorgeous city together. Their time was supposed to be infinite. There was never supposed to be a period at the end of this sentence they’ve written together.

And yet.

They’re barreling toward that uncompromising end at a speed Maura can’t keep up with, all the while insisting they’ve got all the time in the world. That morning, as they sit at the table and eat breakfast, Maura decides the time for tiptoeing is over, because in just a few days, they’ll be out of time to decide what to do. And Dr. Maura Isles never misses a deadline. “We need to talk,” she says, setting down her fork a little too loudly to emphasize her point.

Jane sighs. “Yeah.”

“We’re going home on Tuesday,” Maura says softly, all the bravado suddenly gone out of her voice, leaving only a quiet dread in its place. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m supposed to move into my new place on Friday.” Jane is staring straight at the table. Maura doesn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to see her own face crumple either. “And my family is gonna be overcrowding us until then, of course.” She rolls her eyes. A habit, but Maura knows it’s just that. Jane loves her family more than anything. Which, of course, was why her decision to leave Boston was all the more shocking.

Maura scratches gently at her bottom lip with her thumb. “You’re going, then?”

“Yeah.” Jane tugs her fingers through unruly hair. “I mean, I don’t really have a choice. I can’t get the deposits back on my apartment and I signed a contract with the FBI. I have to give them at least a year.”

“What if you did have the choice?”

“I…” Jane chews on her lip, eyes flicking to the side. “I don’t know. I just think I need to try something new. I’ve lived in the same place, done the same job forever, you know?”

Maura nods. “What does that mean for us, then?”

“I mean, I think we can do long distance.” Jane smiles. There’s a hesitance behind it, but it’s a smile nonetheless. It makes everything feel much less heavy, much more possible.

“Really?” Maura whispers. “You want to?”

“Of course.” Jane reaches across the table and takes Maura’s hand. Maura feels her entire body relax against the touch. “We have to try. We owe it to ourselves, right?”

Maura feels something rise in her that feels like the sensation just before crying, but it’s different. It’s not painful. This is a beautiful kind of tension, like the build up to an orgasm, like waking up with the sun in your windows, like dipping your fork into a meal you’ve been waiting for all day. “I love you,” she says before she can stop herself. Maybe it’s too soon. But, watching Jane’s smile widen into a beaming grin, her eyes crinkling at the edges, she realizes there’s no such thing as too soon for something that’s been building for the better part of a decade.

“I love you, too,” Jane murmurs, squeezing Maura’s hand on the table. Maura almost forgot Jane was holding her hand at all. The feeling has become so familiar she barely even notices it anymore. Until it’s gone.

“You know this is going to be hard, right?” Maura asks, speaking to herself just as much as to Jane.

Jane nods slowly. She still doesn’t let go of Maura’s hand. “I know. But I know us.” She squeezes Maura’s hand again. “We’ll be just fine.”

Maura searches Jane’s face, but there’s no evidence of doubt hidden in her eyes. She wishes she could say the same for herself. But the truth is, as October draws to an end, she’s terrified that their love story will stay neatly folded between its pages. She doesn’t know what November will bring. All she can hope is that it still includes Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would y'all believe this is my best attempt at writing fluff lol


	3. Come Back... Be Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mood: "Come Back... Be Here" by Taylor Swift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long lol i got distracted

Maura’s not used to goodbyes going on for several days. She’s not used to having goodbyes at all, really. Usually when people leave, they just leave, and Maura is left to pick up the pieces all on her own. This time, though, the goodbye seems like it will never end. She knows she can’t get comfortable in that, though. It will end. It will end, and Jane will leave, and everything will change.

Their goodbye begins on that last night in Paris, a tangle of arms and legs and moaning each other’s names like a question, like a wish, like a prayer. Maura finds herself memorizing the sound of her name falling from Jane’s lips as easily as a breath even as she hears it. She clings to every bare inch of olive skin like she doesn’t know when she’ll be able to touch it again. Because she doesn’t. She’s terrified to fall asleep when finally they collapse, sweaty and spent, still wrapped up tight in each other’s arms.

Rapid, uneven breathing tells her Jane isn’t sleeping, either. Neither of them knows what to say. Neither of them is ready to say what needs to be said. Maura strokes Jane’s back as Jane slides her arms around Maura’s ribcage with a vice-like grip. She’s been avoiding thinking about this night for so long that, now that it’s here, she doesn’t know what to do with it.

Eventually she’s lulled to sleep by the warmth provided by the love of her life lying on top of her, and their last night together draws to a shaky close. Before she knows it, sunlight is dancing on the bedroom floor and it’s time to erase any evidence that they fell in love here, that they were ever in this little apartment at all.

They have an evening flight, so they still have the whole day to spend packing and cleaning and lingering in this space for just a little bit longer. They don’t really talk. Both of them are wrapped up in memory. Every corner of the apartment is coated in memories of kissing, of laughing, of being naked both in the literal and figurative sense.

Throughout the day, Maura keeps catching Jane wiping away tears, and all she wants is to kiss them away but she knows it would only bring on a wave of her own. She keeps to her side of the room. She leaves Jane alone.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Jane says when she comes back in from throwing out the trash. She slides her hands into her back pockets. Her face is completely unreadable except for her telltale locked jaw. She doesn’t look at Maura, just scans the room with a steely gaze.

Maura crosses the room and slides her arms around Jane’s waist from behind, resting her head on Jane’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Whatever happens, we’ll be okay,” she murmurs into soft, warm skin.

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s us.” Maura gently turns Jane to face her so she can make sure she’s hearing every word. “After everything we’ve been through, we are not going to be defeated by a few hundred miles between us.” She takes both of Jane’s hands and squeezes them. “I promise.”

Jane nods slowly. Her eyes are still red. “Let’s go, then.”

Throughout the cab ride, the bag check, the airport security line, their hands keep finding each other like magnets. Maura keeps reminding herself to focus on the tactility of Jane’s hand squeezing hers. It keeps her mind from wandering too far into hypotheticals.

“What should we do when we get back?” Maura asks once they reach their gate. They’ve still got nearly twenty hours of transfers and layovers until they reach Boston, but now seems as good a time as any to have this talk. “Do you want to tell people?”

Jane sighs. Her head falls into the basket of her open hands. “Not yet.” She looks up suddenly, turning to Maura with wide eyes. “Not because I don’t want people to know. But you know how nosy my family can be.” She smiles softly. “I just want you all to myself for a little longer.”

Maura smiles. She reaches over and pulls Jane’s hand back to her, back to where it belongs, fingers laced between Maura’s. “I agree.”

The flights are long, but with Jane’s head on her shoulder, Maura can’t help but wish they’d go on forever. Every time they land in a new city and she shakes Jane gently awake, she’s struck again by the thought that they’re that much closer to goodbye. She makes sure her hand keeps finding Jane’s. she makes sure to never let go of that anchor.

In Boston, Maura knows the entire Rizzoli clan is at the airport waiting for them. They all insisted. She squeezes Jane’s hand as they slowly exit the plane and come out into the gate. “They’ll be waiting for us in baggage claim,” she murmurs.

“Yeah.”

The kiss that follows is soft and slow. It goes on much longer than is appropriate for the public setting they’re in. Maura doesn’t care. She’s lost in this kiss. She’s stopped counting the minutes until all this has to end, and she’s just here in the moment, basking in the endless love she has for Jane.

Of course, it has to end. Maura’s surprised to find she’s not crying as she pulls away. She keeps a steady hold on Jane’s hand all the way through the airport, until right before they turn the corner to baggage claim, when she gently slips her hand away. She looks up in surprise when Jane immediately snatches it back and holds it tight. “What about-”

“I don’t care,” Jane says softly. “I’m not wasting the time we have pretending I don’t want to touch you.”

Maura feels a rush of tingles run through her body. It’s still so new to hear Jane be so open, so vocal about her love for Maura. For anybody. It’s absolutely incredible to hear just how important she is in Jane’s life. As they round the corner, they’re immediately bombarded with hugs from each and every Rizzoli and Rizzoli-adjacent, pulling them apart for the time being to be surrounded by another kind of love.

Maura buries herself in Angela’s arms. “Thank you for coming.”

Angela pulls back slightly to look right at Maura with a smirk. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you two,” she murmurs. “You be gentle with my little girl’s heart, you hear?”

Maura grins. Her entire body is warm, buzzing with the sudden influx of love from all sides. “You know I will.”

After the initial greetings, their hands find each other once again, always drawn together no matter what. The countdown clock is back in Maura’s head. They have only two days to pack up Jane’s entire apartment, throw the goodbye party, and somehow make time for their own goodbyes.

Of course, it flies by. By day, everything Jane owns slowly disappearing into boxes, friends and family dropping by the apartment like a revolving door, offering hugs and drinks and pointed looks because apparently, it’s impossible to keep a secret once Angela knows. Not that they necessarily mind.

By night, clothes fly in every direction, and they press their bodies close together, trying to be closer than close, and Maura wonders if osmosis can occur between two human bodies. She starts testing it, pulling Jane toward her as long fingers work inside her, wishing she could just freeze time and live in this forever.

And, suddenly, it’s Friday. The moving van pulls away and Jane loads up her car with the things she doesn’t trust the movers with. The last kiss they share before she leaves has an audience. Everyone they love gathers around the car to see Jane off, and half of them whoop and cheer and the other half blush and turn away as Jane pulls Maura flush against her, kissing her deep and slow and promising with her tongue it won’t be the last time.

And then she’s gone. The long goodbye is over, and Maura’s left standing alone surrounded by people who love her because Jane loves her. She rides home with Angela, who lets her cry freely, who passes her tissues and squeezes her shoulders as they heave with sobs. She hasn’t been to her own house since before they left for Paris. Every moment was spent in Jane’s apartment, in Jane’s bed, and now her house just feels big and empty and filled with memories.

Her phone rings as she heads upstairs for a nap, unsure of what else to do with herself. “Hi, Jane,” she answers, hoping it’s not obvious she’s been crying.

“Hey. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Jane sighs loudly into the phone. “And I know it’s only been like, an hour, but I miss you.”

Maura smiles through tears that have started falling again without her permission. “I miss you, too.” She wipes at her eyes. “Promise you’ll come home to me soon.”

“I always will. I promise.”


End file.
